


Like a Table

by niknakmess



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Dorks in Love, F/M, Ned/Betty is more of a background relationship but they are still important, diner au, michelle and peter are both BI AS HELL, seriously they are so dorky, the diner au i never knew i wanted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22946827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niknakmess/pseuds/niknakmess
Summary: Fresh out of college, Michelle Jones aka MJ is working her part time job at a greasy Queens diner known as Triple J's before she officially starts her journalism career next month. While MJ is content to simply work her job for the next month and ride out the monotony, fate has other plans. One side being the fact that her friends decide it’s time for her to start dating again and the other being the city’s hero, Spider-Man, crashing quite literally into her life. Though, perhaps those two events have more in common than she thinks.
Relationships: Betty Brant/Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 15
Kudos: 39





	1. Triple J's

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know where this came from. I started writing this back in like May/June of 2019 while waiting for Far From Home to drop, playing the Spider-Man video game, and then also listening to The Waitress soundtrack and desperately wanting to write Peter and Michelle like Ogie and Dawn but also not really. 
> 
> Here's some basic points:  
> MJ and Peter have never met before this point, so there is some canon divergence  
> Liz is still around because she's great and I love her character  
> I cannot emphasize how dorky both MJ and Peter are and also how bi they are
> 
> I can make this in no way sound original, but anyway I hope y'all enjoy my self indulgence, I figure someone else beside me would want to read something like this.

MJ never liked uniforms. 

The plaid skirt and white button down she had to wear throughout her private Catholic school days was a never-ending nightmare. Especially when she got to "that age" and she felt like the leering and wolf whistles had no end in sight. In retrospect she wished she had kicked more than just shins. 

The polo shirt and khakis she had to wear at the information desk of Columbia’s visitor center made her feel like a car insurance salesman. Not to mention the fact that they wouldn't even let her keep the purple streaks that were underneath her first layer of hair. It's not like anyone could even see them anyway.

The white apron she now tied around her waist made her feel entirely too domestic. Like she should already have a martini in hand and a kiss on the cheek ready for when a husband announces "Honey I'm home!". MJ was very far from that antiquated idea, the uniform for her job at Triple J’s Diner, however, was not. Betty and Liz both insisted the powder blue dress really did look the best on her, she thought it looked suspiciously like a dress she wore to mass on Easter Sunday when she was nine. And she didn’t like that one either. 

Nevertheless, MJ finished the buttons on her dress and laced up her sneakers, and then made the ten minute walk down the block to quite possibly the greasiest diner in all of Queens. 

And that was saying something. 

“Morning sunshine,” Betty greeted as soon as MJ opened the door. The blonde girl was chipper as ever, that mood somehow lasting her throughout the entirety of her shifts. Whether that be opening at six in the morning, or closing at midnight. 

“I don’t know why you insist on being so cruel to me so early in the morning,” MJ replied, rubbing the heel of her hand against one of her eyes, trying to rid it of the bleary vision. Betty only shrugged back, the small grin sticking on her face. “Boss man here yet?” MJ asked, to that Betty replied with an eye roll. 

“You know he’s not gonna show up until like eight,” Betty said as blew the bangs out of her eyes. She leaned against the laminate of the countertop. “Liz is somewhere around here though.” 

As if speaking her name was a summon, Liz pushed through the double swinging doors of the kitchen, lugging a large case of freshly cleaned glasses. She hauled them onto the countertop, the cups knocking into each other causing a clinking sound to reverberate through the empty diner. “Oh hey MJ,” Liz said, picking up a rag from beneath the counter and beginning to wipe down the inside of the glasses. “I thought you were doing brunch shift today?” 

"Had to pick up breakfast too for the weekend, since I'm taking Monday off." A sly smile split onto MJ's face, "What’s wrong Allan? Afraid I’m going to steal all of your tips?” MJ joked. Liz rolled her eyes when MJ began making creepy hand gestures and spooky ghost noises. 

Betty snorted out a laugh as MJ pushed back through the double doors of the kitchen, continuing her mannerisms. 

“How’s it going Patrick?” she asked the chef as she passed. He made an indiscriminate noise in her direction before going back to lining up eggs for the breakfast crowd. “I’m in about the same place,” she joked more to herself than him. 

MJ reached the door to her boss' office and turned the knob. Flicking on the light, she shrugged her backpack off onto the floor near the coat rack and shoved her time card into possibly the oldest time clock in Queens.

Then she scanned the room. The desk in the back was scattered with news articles, print outs and photographs. She sighed and wandered over to fix it up a bit. Not that it was her job to, but knowing the mess was back here made her nearly insane. MJ moved the restaurant supplies and the ‘research’ articles into separate piles. She made sure that the finance book was on top, it was a pay week after all. 

Finally, she turned her attention to the cork board. If one were to just walk into this room with no prior knowledge as to her boss’ outside of work hobby, they may think he was a serial killer or something along those lines. 

The board was littered with some of the articles and photographs, and to top off the creepy vibes: red string. He even had the decency to title the board with a hastily scribbled and barely legible ‘Who is the Spider-Man?’. MJ furrowed her brow as she scanned the documents and pictures, trying to follow the red lines. Another scrap of paper read the name Norman Osborn with about seven question marks. At that, MJ snorted. 

Her eyes finally landed on the center picture, which was one that was publicly well known as Spider-Man’s profile picture on most of social media. He was staring up at the camera, holding up a peace sign as the view over his shoulder showed the ground below the Empire State Building. She could tell he was smiling, even with the mask obscuring his face. 

MJ couldn’t deny that she was also curious as to who he was exactly, not that she had ever met him. It seemed everyone else around her had some brief encounter with the spandex clad hero. Betty said she had seen him climbing past her apartment window one day and dropped the pudding cup she had been digging into after he waved at her. Liz had once seen him helping an elderly woman up onto the steps of a bus, of which she snapped a picture and sent it to their group text along with at least three heart emojis. Even good old J. Jonah Jameson, owner of Triple J Diner said he has chased Spider-Man away with a broom after seeing him relaxing on the sign outside the restaurant. MJ had been quite happy to keep her distance, after all with Spider-Man near that usually meant danger was soon to follow.

She blinked herself out of her thoughts, realizing she had been staring at his picture the entire time. MJ scoffed slightly before shaking her head at the whole thing. 

She made her way through the office and kitchen back to the front of the restaurant, where Betty and Liz were whispering among themselves. 

MJ scooted herself onto one of the barstools and started grabbing some glasses and Liz’s abandoned rag to rub away some of the excess water. About three glasses in she finally decided to acknowledge the two sets of eyes staring at her. “What is it you two?” she asked, not looking up from her task. 

“Well, MJ, we were just thinking,” Betty’s tone went up and down with each word. This inflection made MJ snap her head up. Betty rocked back and forth on her heels, while Liz stood like a statue staring her down. “You know, you haven’t really,” Betty cleared her throat, “dated anyone since like freshman year of college and I was, well we both were thinking, maybe you should put yourself out there?” Betty winced like MJ was about to hit her. 

“Why the sudden interest in my love life girls?” MJ asked, placing the glass and rag back down on the counter. Liz looked as though she was trying really hard not to roll her eyes.

“Come on Em,” Liz said. “We know that you don’t really talk to anyone outside of us, and we don’t even see each other everyday or get to hang out that much outside of this place.” A gentleness washed over Liz’s face. “We just hate to see you lonely.” 

MJ felt her heart drop at hearing the genuine care these girls had for her. But dating someone? Right now? At this point in her life? Maybe if this gig was lasting more than the summer, but she was starting at The Daily Bugle next month. She just didn’t have time to worry about someone else in her life other than herself. “I’m not lonely guys,” she quickly denied, “I like to be alone.” MJ crossed her arms and leaned back a bit, knowingly putting distance between herself and the other girls. 

“Bullshit,” Betty said, her cheeks a bit red.

“Seriously MJ I’ve never met anyone as defensive as you,” Liz added.

“I’m not defensive,” MJ mumbled, keeping her eyes away from Liz’s gaze. She began moving the salt and pepper shakers into organized lines, nothing more than an excuse to look away. “I’m just cautious, I mean you both know how my last relationship went.” MJ almost felt Betty wince again. “I’m not really interested in being surprised right now, and you know what’s very surprising?” She settled the last of the shakers into their lines. “A stranger.” 

“It’s just one app MJ, I promise,” Betty insisted. “You don’t even have anyone talking to you that you don’t want to, you make all the decisions.” Betty punctuated her points by pulling up the app on her phone and scrolling through the pitch pictures for MJ to read through. 

“Isn’t Ned going to be a bit upset you have a dating app downloaded on your phone?” MJ joked as she read along with the images. She flicked her eyes up to see Betty cheeks bright red. 

“Oh shut up,” the blonde replied, a slight grin on her face. “Speaking of Ned, I hear his roommate is single, if you're so against a dating app,” Betty suggestively raised her eyebrows a couple of times. 

MJ rolled her eyes. “No offense Betty, but I can only trust the judgement of the guy you’ve been dating for two weeks so much. Let alone the fact that I’ve never even met Ned.” At this Betty pouted.

“So you gonna do it or what?” Liz interrupted.

MJ didn’t have the heart to tell the other girls that she was a bit scared of people. She was practical and had a calm demeanor, a lot of which was an act. They were right, she was defensive and pushing people away was a lot easier than letting them in. 

And being with someone would challenge everything she knew about herself. 

That was absolutely horrifying. 

But she was lonely, at least to some extent. 

Her internal struggle left the room quiet for way longer than what was deemed normal. So she gave in. “Fine, fine. But I’m only doing this so you guys will get off my back.” 

MJ had to jiggle a finger in her ear after the squeal Betty let out.

“Don’t worry MJ,” Betty said beaming like the sun and gesturing for MJ to hand her phone over. MJ would say she did it reluctantly, Betty would say she did so eagerly. “I’m gonna make you sound just as cool as you actually are. But I am gonna bug you every once and a while to ask for stuff. Okay, thanks, love you.” And with that Betty darted to a far corner booth to begin setting up MJ’s profile. 

Meanwhile, MJ’s forehead made friends with the laminate countertop. “What did I just do?” She turned her head to glare at the sound of the older Liz's laughter, cheek still solidly against the countertop's surface. 

“Don’t stress about it Em, any girl or guy would be lucky to have you,” with that Liz patted the curls on MJ’s head and retreated into the kitchen.

MJ buzzed her lips. Maybe she was more lonely than she thought. Maybe this dating idea wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Maybe it was about time she actually let someone else into her life.

“Hey MJ,” Betty called from the corner, “what would you say your favorite shape of pasta is?”

Or maybe it was a terrible idea and she absolutely hated it.

* * *

“Just three more questions MJ,” Betty shouted from her spot behind the register. 

MJ only groaned in response as she grabbed yet another pot of coffee from their machines. “Betty you have asked me like fifty questions by now. Do people actually want to know these things?” She jammed her now empty coffee pot into the space the new one was previously occupying. MJ went down the line refilling mugs as she made her way over to where Betty was standing, still tapping on MJ’s phone between ringing up customers. “Is my choice in size of pencil lead really a deciding factor in anything?” 

“Okay, so maybe some of them are kind of weird,” Betty admitted, scrutinizing the screen as she quickly backspaced and rewrote her previous sentence. MJ leaned over trying to read what exactly she was writing, but was quickly foiled when Betty snapped the phone up close to her chest. “No peeking,” Betty almost pouted, to which MJ rolled her eyes. “It’s good, I promise.” 

“My entire future rests in your hands,” MJ replied sarcastically, trying to exude some drama.

“Miss, we’re ready to order.” MJ glanced over to the corner booth, willing a smile to come to her face before pulling a pad out from her apron’s pocket. Her trek to the table was quickly halted by none other than J. Jonah Jameson.

“Michelle,” he hollered. She winced at the sound of her real name. 

“Sup boss man,” she said, tucking the notepad back into her apron. Triple J only narrowed his eyes at her, lips forming into a thin line underneath what could only be the bristliest mustache known to mankind. 

“Let Liz handle that table, I need you on trash duty.” With that he quickly turned her back to her, not questioning that she would follow him back into the kitchen. 

MJ spun around to look at Betty, walking backwards towards the double doors she lazily mimed a gun to her head. Betty only giggled and shook her head slightly, still enraptured with the dating profile that wasn’t her own.  


* * *

“Uh whoa,” MJ said upon seeing the seven trash bags piled in the back of the kitchen. “Are these all from this morning?” 

“I don’t know,” Jonah snapped back, “just take care of them. Use the side door and take them to the curb, we don’t need customers smelling this.” With that Triple J stalked quickly and furiously back to his back office. He slammed the door just for good measure.

Her suspicions that some of the trash was in fact Jameson's from home skyrocketed. “Jesus,” MJ whispered, “what crawled up his butt and died?” At that Patrick let out a single laugh, punctuated by the sound of a pancake hitting the stove top. MJ tested each of the trash bags, finding two of the lightest ones and grabbing one in each hand. This would probably take her at least four trips, but it did mean she had to talk to less people. 

* * *

Her sizable pile of garbage bags was an eyesore on the sidewalk. And the summer heat was going to make these stink rather quickly, she prayed that the garbage collectors would be by soon to pick them up. MJ set the second to last bag down. Wiping a dribble of sweat from her brow, she let out a huff. It was at times like these she wished her uniform was made of a more breathable fabric.

With another sigh, MJ turned back towards the diner. She had taken about three steps forward before she was knocked in the shoulder by a sprinting man. She quickly corrected, trying to keep her balance. “Hey watch where you’re-,” MJ couldn’t finish her sentence, as two seconds later she was barreled into and sent to the ground. 

“Oh my God, I am so sorry.” 

Said Spider-Man.


	2. Apologies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey!
> 
> I know it's been a bit, it sure has been a little hectic with everything going on.
> 
> I was really happy to see all the positive responses to my silly indulgence of a fic and I hope you all continue to get some enjoyment out of it and escape for a bit.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!

"I'm really sorry uh ma'am," at the look MJ gave him he quickly backpedaled, "Miss! I meant Miss." As if that was why she was angry. He reached out a super suit covered hand to help her up, which she promptly ignored and pushed her own way up. Spider-Man quickly retracted his hand, looking almost embarrassed to have even offered. Or at least she thought he should be embarrassed.

MJ set her jaw at New York's hero before inspecting her hand. The skin was rubbed raw, red and pulsating. Bits of gravel were stuck in the small cuts that were made by the concrete. It also stung like hell. She snapped her narrowed eyes back up at Spider-Man, who took a step back at her reaction. "Shouldn't you be swinging around Manhattan bug boy?" she practically hissed out the question. 

He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I didn't see you, honestly, I just, I have to catch that-," his sentence quickly ended as MJ watched his eyes pursue the man rounding the corner. Spider-Man was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, glancing back and forth between her and the criminal. But she continued to glare at him, arms crossed and foot tapping. 

"I'm sorry. I really just, I gotta go," with that he shot a web out onto the corner of a building and promptly pulled himself to it. Leaving her behind on the sidewalk.

"Are you apologizing again because you knocked me over or because you're too busy to face the consequences?" she yelled after him. MJ watched as Spider-Man pulled himself up, up and away without another word on the matter. She stuck her tongue out at his retreating form, not caring how childish it made her look. MJ gently rubbed a hand against the side of her thigh, wincing as she felt the bump of a nasty sized bruise forming. She huffed out another frustrated sigh before finally storming back inside the diner.

"Jeez what happened to you?" Betty asked as MJ passed by. She effortlessly continued to ring up the exiting customers, who took their free time to cast a couple sideways glances at MJ. 

"The city's great hero," sarcasm dripped on her words as she added air quotes around the word hero, "decided to go for a nice jog instead of staying up where he belongs and thought it would be real cute to take me down along the way." MJ held up her ravaged hand for Betty to see. "First aid kit is in the kitchen, yeah?" 

Betty winced and sucked her teeth quickly before nodding her head and handing back the customer's receipt. 

MJ stalked through the dining area, aware that if Jonah saw the scowl on her face she would definitely get reprimanded. But she found it hard to care, at all. MJ pushed the double doors of the kitchen a bit too hard and they slammed against the inside wall, making Patrick jump.  
"Aye, what happened?" 

She had a feeling she was going to get tired of hearing that. "I don't wanna talk about it," MJ replied to the chef. Opening the far corner cabinet, MJ hauled the red first aid box onto the countertop. Flipping the latches, she sighed upon seeing the contents to be little more than a couple of bandages and alcohol swabs. She mentally cursed J. Jonah Jameson's cheap nature. What if someone actually got hurt? Like a customer or God forbid Patrick cut himself somehow. Regardless she went to work ripping open an alcohol pad and rubbing it against the leaking cuts on her hand. 

Liz suddenly appeared and opened her mouth, to which MJ promptly held up her uninjured hand.

"Don't ask."

"Well at least let me help," Liz said taking some of the alcohol pads from the first aid kit. 

MJ felt some genuine appreciation for the older girl in that moment. They sat in silence as Liz dabbed at MJ’s cuts with the alcohol, the stinging sensation refusing to subside. Until MJ couldn’t take it anymore. "Spider-Man knocked me down while chasing a criminal." Liz's grip went a bit tighter around MJ's wrist. "Ah Jesus Liz, haven't I sustained enough?"

"Sorry, sorry," Liz quickly apologized, "just caught me off guard." 

MJ was minorly aware that Liz had somewhat of a crush on New York's hero. Then again so did half of the city. Regardless of sex, one thing people could agree on was that Spider-Man looked damn fine in his super suit. 

MJ thought he looked like a guy who needed to get an optical exam to make sure he didn't knock any other waitresses, who were just doing their job by the way, to the ground. 

He was also kind of short, if she was being honest.

"I think I have some tweezers in my bag, I'll be right back," Liz stated, fleeing to Jonah's office. 

MJ continued to hold the pad up against her cuts, the alcohol stung, but at least the bleeding was slowing. She set her jaw again thinking about the carelessness of Spider-Man. Once again she wracked her brain trying to figure out why he would ever be running on the sidewalk instead of swinging. She wanted to think it was because he had run out of webbing, but immediately after their confrontation he was swinging away once more. MJ huffed, guessing it would be a question for the hero himself if she ever saw him again. For his own sake, she hoped she didn't.

"Found 'em," Liz said brightly, she opened and closed the tweezers a couple of times to punctuate that her search was in fact successful.

"Great, I would really appreciate it if you could Queens sidewalk out of my hand."

* * *

Peter stepped back to observe his work from a distance. The mess of webbing that was now the purse snatcher made him highly immobile. And the splatter of webbing across his mouth saved Peter's ears from whatever expletives he was yelling at him. "Dude, can you chill out? The police are already coming, maybe don't be a criminal next time and this won't happen." Another sequence of loud but muffled yelling filled the air. Peter rolled his eyes beneath the mask.

The sound of sirens filled the air and Peter quickly shot himself up onto the roof of an adjacent building. Most of the cops in the city didn't exactly mind his assistance, but enough did that he would rather just be clear of the scene before they got there. 

Peter peeked his head over the edge of the roof to see the two officers both shaking their heads at his creation. 

Regardless, Peter was satisfied and took a running leap from the roof of his building to the next and the next and one more after before finally shooting a web and swinging himself down the street.

Queens wasn't as exciting in terms of swinging as compared to Manhattan. And the shorter buildings sometimes made it more difficult to find a high point, but he didn't mind. After all, it used to be his home. 

Unfortunately, however, the lack of fixed points for his webs meant he was on his feet. A lot. 

And thus the waitress incident, as Peter had dubbed it in his mind. 

It's not the first time Peter had knocked into someone chasing a criminal and it certainly wouldn't be the last. Hell, most of the time the person Peter knocked into was the person he was chasing. But this was the first time he actually caused a good amount of unintentional harm. He'd seen her hand, saw how she landed on her side and knew that would be a nasty bruise as well. Peter winced just thinking about it. 

She didn't seem too happy with him either, not that she would have a reason to be. And no matter how many times he apologized. He could still hear her racing heartbeat in his ears, a rhythm like that usually meant that that person was about to take a swing at him. 

Perhaps it was good he left when he did.

"Edith, call Ned please." 

"Of course," answered back the feminine voice of his AI. 

The ringing felt almost deafening when comparing the noises of Manhattan versus the noises of Queens. It made some part of him miss living out here.

On the third ring, Ned finally answered with a very distracted, "Hello?" Peter could hear the distinctive sound of Pokémon battle music in the background. 

"Are you still playing that?" 

"I can't stop now, dude. I'm almost at Lance!" Peter smiled to himself, before remembering why he called Ned in the first place.

"Hey, so I need some advice. You know from my guy in the chair." The music abruptly stopped, which made Peter snicker. "What happened to Lance?"

"Lance will still be here," Ned replied. Peter could practically hear him slam into his desk chair and tapping on his keyboard already. "So what we got? I can police scan. Need me to look up reports? Wait, where even are you?" 

Peter winced. "Queens."

"What?" Ned shouted. "What are you doing out there?" 

“I can’t just limit myself to the city anymore Ned. We don’t have school to worry about anymore.” Peter quickly cut off his friend as he heard Ned suck in a breath to refute him. “And no I am not spreading myself too thin.” 

College had been a hard time for Peter. It had been like high school times a million and that was without including being Spider-Man. Empire State University had been gracious enough to give him some grants and he’d won a scholarship that had brought down the cost of school quite a bit. But he still needed to work part time to cover room and board. Put on top of that studying, assignments, and being Spider-Man, Peter had to limit himself. 

During that part of his life a small part of him regretted turning down the “Tony Stark MIT Scholarship”, but it just didn’t feel right taking it. He loved Tony and appreciated everything the man did for him, but college was something he needed to do on his own. If anything just to prove he didn’t need a hand out to be successful. And he was right. He felt good about everything, felt like he earned it, in a way he thought Tony would be more proud to know Peter did it this way. 

And, now that he and Ned had graduated and he finally had a normal stable nine to five job, his limits weren’t really in question anymore. 

Peter heard Ned sigh. “If you say so. Can’t even take a break on one Saturday though huh,” Ned joked, and Peter offered him a small laugh in return.

“Evil never takes a break and neither do I,” Peter scrunched his nose as soon as the words left his mouth. “That was so cheesy I can almost taste it.” 

“So, what did you need my advice on?” 

"Oh,” Peter started, feeling shame creep up the back of his neck. He stopped himself mid swing, stuck himself to the closest wall and climbed up to meet the roof ledge before taking a seat. “I uh, I knocked over a waitress when I was chasing a perp," Peter slowed his sentence as he reached the end. As he said it out loud the weight of his guilt finally hit him square in the chest. "She got hurt pretty bad, I just, I don't know. I feel bad about it."

"Well yeah dude, I’d be scared if you didn’t feel bad about it,” Ned chuckled. 

"What should I do?" 

"Well, I'll take it you already apologized?"

"Yeah," Peter mumbled, "more than once in fact." He could hear the tell tale creaking of Ned lounging back in his chair. Sometimes his enhanced senses made him feel way too creepy. 

Ned hummed. "It's a tough one Pete. I mean there's not much you can do for a random civilian without seeming like a stalker." 

"I guess you're right," Peter deflated. "I'll see if she's there on my way back home, just to try and apologize one more time." Not that Peter thought another apology would make a difference to her, but maybe a chance to explain himself. 

Ned snickered and then paused. “Wait, don't you have like super senses or something? Shouldn’t you have been able to sense her there?"

Peter’s cheeks burned. “Bye Ned,” he said, quickly dodging the question and letting the line go dead. 

* * *

MJ had been banished for the last four hours. Jonah took one look at her bandaged hand and wobbly stance and deemed her unfit for duty. And so she was stuck unloading dishwasher after dishwasher of plates, bowls, cups and silverware. Not that it was actual silverware, Jonah was too cheap for that. She was about eighty percent sure all of this stuff was from Wal-Mart. And while she hated talking to people, MJ hated monotony even more. 

Her bandage made it impossible to even help rinse off the dishes, as everytime she went for the sink Patrick shooed her away and sprayed them himself. All in between churning out orders like a machine. She offered to help with that too, but he only winced at her words and waved her off towards the dishwasher. 

She had been boring her gaze into the analog clock that hung above the sink for the better part of the hour, willing the thing to just give up and let her go home. After stacking what felt like the three thousandth cup back into place, the clock finally hit two. "Finally," MJ heaved out, nearing knocking her pristine cup stack to the ground. 

She quickly scurried her way back into Jonah's office, where he sat at his desk. A single lamp was on, the blinds were closed and he was hunched over his laptop typing furiously. 

"You know you're going to get a hump if you keep sitting like that," she quipped at him. He moved his head to the side of the screen to glare at her for a solid ten seconds before going back to typing. MJ didn't know how she got away with ribbing the boss so much, she thinks some part of him liked that she gives him attitude. "Working on your life story? Or is it a new episode?" Jonah only grunted. "Fine fine, keep your secrets." MJ picked up her backpack from the corner of the room and slung it onto her shoulder. She gave him a two finger salute he wouldn't even look up to see before saying, "See ya tomorrow."

MJ bid a quick goodbye to Patrick as well before pushing through the double doors of the kitchen. 

Betty and Liz were long gone after the breakfast shift, and MJ couldn't remember the names of the other two girls who showed up to finish brunch and pick up the lunch shift. Nevertheless, she waved goodbye to them before exiting out the front door.

The afternoon sun was practically boiling the concrete of the sidewalk. Out of the corner of her eye she could see heat waves radiating off the asphalt of the street. MJ groaned. She hated the summer. She hated the sweat on her lower back, the impossible sleeping conditions, the fact that she felt like she was dehydrated after walking three steps. MJ hiked her backpack higher on her shoulder, before making a quarter turn in the direction of her apartment.

MJ almost screamed.

Almost.

But she didn't. 

"Um. Hi?"

MJ narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you want bug boy? Came back to finish the job?" To punctuate her questions, MJ held up her now cleaned and bandaged hand.

"I-what, no," he stammered out. MJ peered at him as the lenses of his mask seemed to dilate and constrict as he went through his emotions.

"Then what do you want?" she asked, annoyance obvious in her tone. MJ had had a long day, with the cherry on top being the Spider-Man incident. At this point she just wanted to go home to her closet sized apartment and pass out, maybe on the floor. 

"Can I apologize again?"

His tone struck her. The soft mumble of someone who had taken hurting her to heart. Of someone who actually cared. MJ tried not to let her surprise show on her face. He did come all the way back here from wherever to just say sorry again. Of course he was entirely in the wrong and his first apology was so hasty it might as well have been sent by text. 

But still. 

"May you apologize again," she corrected and felt her previous anger cool. She watched as what seemed like amusement flickered across the ever changing lenses on his eyes.

"Are you my first grade teacher in disguise or something?"

She only gave him a non-committal shrug and a slight slope of a smile. 

Something felt dangerous about this. About playful banter with a superhero. An outside bystander might even call it some light flirting. Maybe she was more lonely than she thought to be kind of flirting with Spider-Man. 

"Fine." MJ could practically hear him smiling, "May I apologize again?" 

She stared at his mask covered face, searching for a few seconds before saying, 

"I'll think about it."


	3. Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there!
> 
> I think it's safe to say this will be a monthly updated fic at this point. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Peter was dumbstruck as the waitress side-stepped him faster than he expected of any normal person. It was such a strange response to his question. He had been prepared for a yes or a no, but an "I'll think about it"? That left him stuck in place. There wasn't even a guarantee she would ever see him again to warrant an "I'll think about it". And yet she continued to walk effortlessly away from him. Peter snapped out of it and quickly shot a web out to the lamppost she was going to pass. 

"You know the stalker thing really isn't a cute look for you bug boy," she called, not even bothering to glance his way. 

"I'm just making sure a citizen is getting home safely and not, oh say, getting pushed down to the sidewalk by anyone," Peter responded back, “ya know, again.” He found himself wondering if it made her smile as he watched the top of her head pass by. With that Peter flitted to the next street light, keeping ahead of her. "And if that citizen so happens to hear how extremely sorry I am that I did in fact knock them over and hurt them and then totally fled the scene like a jackass, that's not my intention at all." 

Peter was sure his super senses picked up a slight snort of a laugh from below him. 

"I think that citizen would appreciate that you came back here to try and apologize again," she said. Peter felt something akin to satisfaction swell in his chest. "But they might also say maybe you need to get some glasses in that spidey suit." He grinned upon hearing the teasing in her voice. 

"Maybe I am due for a check up," he trailed off as he moved to the crosswalk pole, where she was stuck at the corner. He slid down the metal to face her once more. Peter watched as she tried to tamp down the surprised look that flashed across her face.

"I have a good side career in mind if you need it," she said, a smirk plastered on her face. 

Peter let out a short laugh. They stood together on the corner in silence. He watched her shift her weight slightly and wasn't sure if the pounding heartbeat was hers or his own. 

They had talked a bit when he initially knocked her down, well he apologized and she glared but still. He was so focused on being friendly neighborhood Spider-Man he hadn't taken proper time to see her. 

She was very pretty, he finally concluded. 

Almost unfairly pretty. 

"Keep staring and I'll have to charge a fee or something," she quipped at him. And that quickly burst his reverie. 

He felt the heat rise to his cheeks, and was grateful for his mask at that moment. 

"Well the white man says I can walk so," she trailed off. Peter glanced over his shoulder seeing in fact the crosswalk light had changed. He stepped quickly to get out of her way and to his surprise she didn't move immediately. "I thought about it, you're forgiven by the way," she shrugged, "you make it hard to hate you." 

At that Peter felt his heart rate spike. 

"They don't call me friendly neighborhood Spider-Man for nothing." At that she raised an eyebrow. 

"Right, well then," she said, finally moving past him. "See ya ‘round Spidey."

Peter watched her cross the street, wondering if any of the other pedestrians could hear his heart beating. It felt like a timpani against his own ears. "I prefer that to bug boy, just so you know," he called after her. She only responded with a dismissive wave over her shoulder, and then she turned the next corner and was gone. 

He felt like he was vibrating, like he could maybe do a couple back flips in a row even if he didn't have super powers. He didn't know why he was so fired up. It had basically been an empty conversation of apologies and forgiveness. But maybe there was also some flirting on both sides if Peter was bold enough to make that assumption. 

"You've been standing on this corner for one minute and fifty-eight seconds, people are starting to stare," Edith's voice echoed against his ears. 

He snapped out of it after that. And glanced around to see some pedestrians were giving him a couple of furrowed brows. A few phones were out as well snapping photos. Peter's cheeks heated up again for a different reason before he shot out a web to the nearest building corner and pulled himself to it. 

After a few more distracted swings he finally landed at a subway stop that he knew would take him back into the city. With a wave of nostalgia he descended the stairs while fumbling for his card. About halfway down he stopped suddenly.

"Fuck," he groaned, dragging a hand down his mask covered face, "I forgot to ask her name."

* * *

MJ’s dress was starting to stick to her back as she kept pressed up against the brick wall of the building. She laced her fingers into her hair and tugged. “What the hell was that?!” she exclaimed to herself. “Flirting with Spider-Man am I out of my mind?!” she smacked a hand to her forehead and then promptly realized what she had just said. MJ’s hand slid down from her forehead to cover her mouth, her eyes darted in all directions making sure there was not a super suit clad stranger watching her. Seeing the area was clear she finally released her gasp in a rush of air. 

She spent the next two minutes pacing back and forth. A few glances were thrown her way as MJ stayed deep in thought.

"Okay," she finally said to herself, "this was just a fluke. It's been a while and he was just the person who happened to be there. That is it." She huffed and crossed her arms, finally pivoted away from the wall and continued on home. 

MJ had to make a conscious effort to keep from mumbling to herself on the way home. She already felt like eyes were on her and talking to herself anymore would surely not improve the disheveled look she was already pulling off. 

The tiny inlet of her apartment building's door finally came into view. She lengthened her stride, trying to reach asylum quicker. 

Her building was a stout and brick covered, vines crept up the side of one wall nearly covering some of the occupants windows. It was decently nice to look at. There was also cheap rent, which meant it was perfect. The trees that lined the walkway looked pretty with delicate white flowers, but stunk in the hot summer heat. She could never figure out why anyone would plant something that smelled so bad.

MJ punched in the code for the front door, hard enough to make one of the buttons stick in for a moment. The long buzz broke up her runaway train of thought and she scurried inside. 

She took the stairs two at a time and tried to ignore the dull pounding of her heart in her chest. MJ didn’t even realize her hands were shaking slightly until her keys jangled against each other as she shoved them in the lock on her paint chipped door. 

It creaked open and she slipped inside, closing the door behind her softly. MJ unceremoniously dropped her backpack from her shoulders and threw her keys somewhere in the kitchen. Though she was sure she heard the distinct sound of metal skittering along the tile. She herself then slid down onto the floor, facing up towards the white popcorn ceiling, trying to find some semblance of control in its jagged appearance. 

“Jesus Christ, am I insane?” MJ spoke to the empty apartment. She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes until she saw spots. “Well I am talking to myself, so that doesn’t help.” MJ let out a sigh, placing her hands on her stomach so she could feel it deflate. She finally let her brain ask the question she’s been dreading.

Was she interested in Spider-Man?

Yes, objectively. He was a superhero, who saved people and helped people. Hell he helped save the universe some years back. Honestly, she would be happy to get an interview with him if he had the time. 

But was she interested in him, like, romantically? 

MJ halted that thought very quickly. “No, no, no,” she said, “we have covered this already, he’s just the first person you’ve met in a while. That. Is. It.” She hmphed with finality.

Just because he was genuine. And helpful. And sweet. And sounded like he was cute. And like basically walked her home didn't mean anything. 

Not. A. Thing. 

A second passed.

"Fuck," MJ swore to the room.

Then, an idea. 

MJ flipped herself up and slid over to her backpack. Placing the bag in her lap, she dug around the contents until she felt the smooth screen of her phone. Unlocking it, MJ scrolled to the last page, finding the newly downloaded dating app at the end. 

She found herself staring at the profile Betty ended up making for her. The main picture was a candid that Betty herself had taken when they walked across the Brooklyn Bridge this past winter. Snow was tangled into the curls of her hair, her cheeks were dusted a pleasant pink and an easy smile was spread across her face. She was surprised by how nice she looked. 

The others included some more on her own, and some with her, Liz and Betty all together. “Damn Betty,” she whispered to herself, “you should do this professionally or something.” 

“Okay MJ,” she said, “just swipe on the first person you see.” She gave herself a beat for a calming breath. The first profile flashed into view and MJ immediately grimaced, quickly moving her thumb to the left. “Okay, the next person.” She continued in the fashion for a few minutes, denying the next profile and the next and the next. Perhaps what made it all even more embarrassing was that she was barely two feet into her apartment and still sitting on the floor. 

Each bio that crossed her eyes was highly scrutinized, if MJ was able to do one thing, it was find flaws. That was a major part of her degree after all. 

Frustrated after what felt like her eightieth swipe, she shot up from her place on the floor. “All right, no matter what, this one is going to be swiped right,” she stated, finally swiping the last person left.

MJ stared at the picture of her newest subject of scrutiny. 

His wavy brown hair was nicely swooped to the right side of his forehead. His eyes stared back into hers as he leaned casually against some building. His bright teeth were on display with an air of kindness that seemed to radiate from him. MJ scoffed to distract herself from how much her cheeks burned. She swiped through the rest of his pictures. A couple included friends and one featured what looked like an older woman crushing him into her side. 

His smile was stretched so wide in that picture that it forced his eyes closed. 

MJ swallowed so loud she was sure her neighbors could have heard it. Scrolling down slightly she saw his name in stark, bold, black font. 

Peter P. 

“No looking at the bio, just swipe right.” She reaffirmed with a nod of her head and slowly dragged her thumb to the right.

She then, promptly, threw her phone onto the couch and ran into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her for good measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy!
> 
> I know I'm indulging in plenty of fics in all my spare time. 
> 
> As always comments, kudos and anything else are greatly appreciated!


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